


Check Me Out

by Chash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Exhibitionism, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 18:18:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13507140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Clarke didn't think she had a particular thing for hot librarians or anything. But she's got a thing for Bellamy, who's definitely hot and definitely a librarian, so she can't really deny it.





	Check Me Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [museumofflight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/museumofflight/gifts).



Clarke has never had a librarian fetish, but she's always had a _theoretical_ librarian fetish. She was ready, willing, and able to have a thing for the first shy girl in a v-neck sweater with a pair of glasses and her hair in a bun that she encountered. If she ever met someone who embodied that aesthetic, she figured she'd be into it, no questions asked.

But the first person she meets who actually makes her feel the whole hot librarian thing is Bellamy Blake, and as soon as he does, she feels like a bad bisexual for not thinking about hot librarian guys. Sure, the stereotypical hot librarian is a girl, but it really _does_ work on guys too. Especially on Bellamy, who's got this nice, kind of quiet smile, and hair that goes in every direction, and who always seems to be on the verge of realizing he forgot to do something.

Add in the broad shoulders and deep brown eyes and smattering of freckles and he's basically a perfect human specimen. Clarke defies anyone to meet him and not develop a librarian fetish.

Not that she can be sure the whole thing extends past him. She likes the other librarians well enough, and plenty of them also have glasses or wear sweaters or are generally attractive, but Bellamy is definitely her favorite one, by a mile.

And of course, she doesn't really think anything is going to happen. She sees Bellamy roughly once a week, when she and Madi go into the library to return their previous books and pick up new ones. Bellamy’s usually there, always friendly, and he and Clarke will chat sometimes, but it’s not a situation that has much romantic growth potential. Clarke’s never great at picking people up, and having her foster daughter around doesn't make it any easier.

Which is a great excuse to not make the move she already wouldn’t be making, because she and Bellamy do not know each other and she has no reason to think any move she might make would be welcome. He can just be a highlight of her week. They’ll have casual conversations and she will, sometimes, idly fantasize about meeting him outside of the library where he will be cute and flustered and nervous and want to make out.

They’re nice fantasies that in no way resemble her actual first out-of-library meeting with Bellamy.

It’s Raven’s birthday, and the only request she had for it was that Clarke find a babysitter and actually come out and celebrate. Which Clarke honestly might have still tried to get out of, but Raven told Madi, and Madi also told Clarke to find a babysitter, so here she is, out at a club with Raven and Gina and a bunch of people from Raven’s office she doesn’t know, half-drunk off one cocktail because her tolerance is shot.

“You could find someone to dance with,” Gina suggests. She and Clarke aren’t particularly tight, but she’s nice and loves Raven, which is all that really matters. “There are some good options.”

"I'm not really much of a dancer," she admits. "I'm good, I'm having fun. I think I might just need some air."

"If you don't come back, I will find you," Raven says, dark, and she has to smile.

"I know, yeah. Don't worry, I'm coming back. I'll find someone to talk to after."

Raven rolls her eyes, clearly not believing it, but Clarke really is starting to feel claustrophobic. Clubs are good when she's in the mood; it's just that she hasn't been in the mood much since she hit her late twenties.

Fresh air helps instantly. It's early fall, not too cold, but enough cooler than the sweaty mess of a club to be a relief, and she takes a few deep breaths to sober herself up before she starts walking. She's not planning on going far, just a quick loop around the block before she goes back in, but she only gets around the corner before a sound catches her attention, and she looks down the alleyway to see a couple hooking up, far enough she can't quite make out details, but it's obvious what's happening, a woman with her back against the wall, moaning, someone's head between her legs. It's equal parts startling and hot, the woman's moans appreciative and sharp, and Clarke knows she shouldn't watch, but she doesn't know how to move either.

And then the person between the girl's legs pulls back to say something, and even if she can't hear the words, her eyes are adjusted enough to the darkness that she knows it's _Bellamy_ , and suddenly she has to live in a world where she knows her cute, shy, buttoned-up librarian likes to eat women out behind night clubs.

The noise she makes is strangled and involuntary, but it's loud enough to get their attention, both of them jerking away to look at her, and she manages a quick "Sorry!" before she flees.

She does finish her circuit of the bar and then goes back in, buys another drink, and tries very, very hard to not think about it. It doesn't work, of course, but she can at least tell herself that she's not watching the door for him, not wondering if he'll come back in, if he recognized her, if the girl was just a girl or a girl _friend_. She's not asking herself any of a thousand other stupid, swirling questions.

If he comes back, she doesn't see him, and she goes home and doesn't even pretend she's not remembering it when she gets herself off.

*

"Can I go over to Adri's after school?" Madi asks, the next Thursday afternoon.

Clarke blinks. "When?"

"Tomorrow. Maybe a sleepover? She's checking with her mom, but definitely until dinner."

"Do you have anything to do on Saturday?"

"Just the library, and you can go without me. Just get me whatever you can off my reserve list."

Clarke tries not to react; they haven't been back to the library since she saw Bellamy at the club, and she has no idea what she's going to do when she sees him. Her plan is to pretend it never happened, but she's not sure she's going to be able to pull it off. And if Bellamy recognized her, she's not sure what _he'll_ do.

It's been a kind of stressful week, if she's honest.

"As long as her mom says it's okay, it's fine with me," she tells Madi, and isn't really surprised when Adri's mom agrees to the sleepover.

Which means she's facing the prospect of going to the library _alone_ , without any backup.

She's not sure how she convinces herself that her best plan is to go in first thing on Friday, but it does feel like a good idea. She has no idea if Bellamy works on Fridays, but even if he does, he won't be expecting her. Maybe she can avoid him entirely. It definitely feels safer than the alternative.

So, of course, he's _right there_ as soon as she walks in, sitting behind the desk reading a book, still basically the hottest person she's ever met in real life. He's got his glasses back and a sweater on, and maybe he has a twin brother or something, because she still can't imagine him being the guy in the alley, in spite of what she knows she saw.

He looks up at the sound of her coming in, pushes his glasses back up when they slide down his nose. "Hey, Clarke. What's up? You don't usually come in on Friday. Where's Madi?"

"School. She has a sleepover so she wasn't coming anyway. I thought I'd get it out of the way while I was out, take Saturday off."

He nods. "Cool. Let me know if you need help finding anything."

"If you can give me whatever books Madi's got off the wait list, that would be great."

"Sure."

There's nothing inherently weird about the interaction; Clarke honestly thinks it's the same as ever, Bellamy checking in the books she's returning, her finding new ones, just like always. But it _feels_ weird, like the knowledge of the club encounter is hanging between them.

"Is it always this quiet on Friday morning?" she finally asks. The silence is way too much.

"Most of the time yeah, yeah. We've got a pre-K reading group at eleven, but it's usually pretty quiet for the first hour or two. People don't tend to be beating down the door."

"I guess not."

He huffs a sigh. "So, uh--I'm sorry."

Clarke blinks. "Sorry?"

"About last weekend."

He's not making eye contact, a flush creeping up his neck, and she feels her mouth go dry. "You don't have anything to apologize for. You didn't do anything wrong. I should have kept walking."

"I'm pretty sure I was actually doing something illegal," he points out, something slightly off in his tone, and Clarke realizes suddenly that it's probably been stressing him out. She's been thinking about how hot it was, and he's been wondering if she was going to call the cops or report him to his superiors or something.

"I'm not going to tell anyone," she says. "I don't care."

"No?"

"It's not like I've never done anything like that before. Okay, not since college, but--"

He smiles. "I hit my rebellion stage pretty late. But in my defense, it was her idea. I just didn't say no."

"I want to say I would have turned her down, but--I guess I didn't see the girl. Bi," she adds, just to be safe. "There are definitely some girls that could talk me into eating them out in an alley. And some guys I'd let do it to me."

There’s a pause, and then he says, in a slightly different tone, “That’s not all we did.”

Clarke’s heartbeat picks up a notch. It’s not like the conversation was exactly appropriate before, but this is going in another direction, and she’s equal parts excited and nervous.

“You didn’t stop after I left?”

“That definitely did it for her, so, no.” He wets his lips. “I finished eating her out and then I fucked her right up against the wall. We’re really lucky no one else came by, I think she screamed.”

“Definitely not the best idea,” says Clarke, and nearly kicks herself. He's flirting, so she should be too. She really wants to be. “You definitely want to hook up with someone who can keep quiet," she adds, careful.

He smirks, so maybe it’s working. "She said she could. Maybe I shouldn't have believed her. Or maybe I'm just that good," he adds. It sounds as if he's trying for boastful, but he lands at more wry amusement.

"I bet I could stay quiet," she says, and doesn't let herself follow up the statement. It's a clear enough offer, so either he'll take her up on it, or--

"You want to find out?"

"Now?"

"No one ever goes into the stacks in the back before noon." His confidence falters. "Obviously we don't have to."

"I feel like I've been turned on all week," she admits. "I knew you were hot, but that was--fuck. That was something else."

"That's what I was hoping you'd say." He ducks out from behind the desk. "Come on, we don't have long."

Clarke can think of an entire army of reasons she shouldn't do this, but none of them really compare to how much she wants it, how wet she is and how eager she is to feel his mouth on her, to feel him thrusting inside her.

He takes her to the back and crowds her up against the wall between two shelves of reference books, his mouth hot on hers, and she whimpers a little, the relief of it so great. 

"Quiet, remember?" he teases as he gets his thigh between her legs. "I'm not even doing anything yet."

"I'm starting to think Saturday was your idea," she says, breathless. "You seem really into this."

"It was my idea to try to use it to hook up with you," he says. "I might owe her." He kisses her again. "Can I eat you out?"

Heat floods between her legs. "Please."

"Good. Gotta go fast," he adds, sliding his mouth down her neck. "Before anyone else shows up."

"It's not going to take that long," she admits. "Trust me."

"Lucky for me you're in a skirt," he murmurs, and she bites her lip.

"I was kind of hoping."

His eyes flick up to hers. "Yeah?"

"It was so hot."

He slides the skirt up so he can get her underwear off, leans in to press a kiss against her thigh as he guides her legs apart. His hands are huge, and she's honestly kicking herself for never having fantasized about this before. It feels like all she's going to think about from now on.

"Yeah, I was hoping too," he says, and then his mouth is on her clit, pressing a delicate kiss there before he begins to explore with his tongue, feeling out what she likes and how she likes it. Clarke's fingers tangle in his hair, and pushes his shoulder under her leg, getting better access. Two fingers slide inside her, thick and firm, and she bites her lip to keep from crying out. It's been so long, and while most of the time she prefers slow, the rush and the possibility of getting caught are pushing her to the edge in no time.

He curls his fingers just right and she bites her arm to keep the cry in, her hips rolling harder into the warmth of his mouth. The signal is clear, and he strokes the spot relentlessly, keeping it up until she comes, orgasm rushing through her, leaving her shaking.

He kisses her thigh and grins. "Another of those, or--"

"Fuck me," she says, and he laughs.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

He gets a condom out of his wallet, Clarke trying not to stare as he undoes his slacks and gets his dick out, but he's _seriously_ hot. She's never getting over this librarian fetish. Or maybe just this librarian.

"Good?" he asks.

"Yeah. How do you want me?"

"This works for me. Just--" He gets himself lined up, sliding inside her, the stretch of it so fucking perfect, and when Clarke moans, he catches it with his mouth. "Quiet," he says, and she wraps her legs around him as he starts to fuck her. It's not comfortable, nothing she'd want to do often, but as a one-time thing it's stupidly hot, the kind of fantasy she never thought would really happen.

"Fuck," she says, breathless, too quiet for anyone to hear. "Fuck, Bellamy, yeah."

"I can't believe you're into this. Jesus, if I'd known I could have just _asked_ if you wanted to hook up in the stacks--"

"I'd hook up with you anywhere."

He bites her shoulder. "Does that mean you're going to come for me? You felt so fucking good on my fingers, I want to feel it on my dick. I want you to fucking lose it for me, Clarke, come on."

Talking doesn't always do it for her, but Bellamy has the hottest voice of all time, and his mouth is hot against her neck, and she's still on the edge from the oral. All he has to do is nip her shoulder again and she's done, burying her cry against his neck. She only vaguely feels his own thrusts becoming more erratic, his own need driving him to go faster and harder, and once she's regained herself enough she kisses his jaw, his neck, pushes back against him until he comes too.

They stay like that for a long minute as they recover, both breathing hard, and Bellamy breaks the silence with a sharp laugh.

"Fuck, that was stupid."

She laughs too, too giddy to be offended. "Your pillow talk could use some work."

He kisses her, soft and warm. "Not that part. But I should stop having sex that could get me fired."

"Probably." She bites the corner of her mouth. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize." He brushes some hair off her forehead. "I'd rather just buy you dinner, though. Have sex in a bed, maybe."

"You want to?" she asks.

"I know you've got Madi, but--"

She presses a kiss to his lips, slides out of his arms to find her underwear and straighten her clothes. He watches her with open interest, eyes tracing up her legs as she pulls up her underwear. "I would love to get dinner sometime. And have sex basically anywhere. As long as Madi isn't around."

"Start with dinner?" he offers, with a crooked smile. "And then we can figure out new places to have sex."

"I don't have dinner plans tonight."

He gives her one more kiss, now that he's dressed. He still looks all prim and proper, but he's never going to fool her again. She knows what he's like, and he's perfect.

"Awesome," he says. "It's a date."


End file.
